


Somewhere In Between

by DrHannahbalLecter



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Biblical References, F/F, First Kiss, Flirting, Hannibal and Mason are assholes, Marlana alone time, Vague Mentions of Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:19:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4330071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrHannahbalLecter/pseuds/DrHannahbalLecter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alana Bloom and Margot Verger explore their budding relationship and what it might mean for the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere In Between

_This can be your entrance._

It's the fifth or sixth time Alana parks by the stables of Muskrat Farm to meet Margot Verger, a traditional commencement of Mason's therapy- if that label was at all appropriate. It was a guise that elevated schematics into something of a formality, and all parties knew.

The women’s conversations varied from lengthy to clipped, depending on where Mason was and how insistent he was on beginning. Despite their limitations, Alana found herself looking forward to their time together.

The Verger heiress is not clad in her riding gear today, but she still waits for Alana at the mouth of the barn. She casts her gaze over her shoulder as she runs a hand along her mount's mane, able to hear the echo of heels and cane in tandem across the courtyard. Alana strides with grace and purpose, so unhindered by her handicap that no one would know that each step was a jolt of pins and needles through her pelvis and spine. Alana's lips are as vivid as crimson blood on snow. They curve gently upward upon seeing Margot, pleasantly surprised to see the woman in something other than breeches and Jodhpur boots. 

"Too overcast for riding today?" Alana asks as a greeting. 

"The rain will be here shortly, but that's never stopped me," Margot answers, turning her body to Alana. The skirt of her dress twirls with the movement, settling over her knees. "It's actually rather therapeutic, Doctor Bloom."

"Something liberating about riding in the rain..." Alana reaches up to touch the snout of Margot's steed. "But I've heard that mud and horses don't mesh."

"People and mud shouldn't either, but according to God, it birthed us," Margot quirked an eyebrow. "In Genesis. _The Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature_."

"Expanding your belief system with your brother?" Alana asks, amusement evident in her voice, but not her facade.

"Some things just stick with you after you've read them." She offers Alana her arm today, and the woman takes it after a moment of consideration. "Like things that say that mankind arose from dirt, and can be washed away with water...doomed to an eternity of fire or a paradise in the air. Covers all of the elements, really."

Alana's slender fingers curl warmth around Margot's forearm, gentle without relying too heavily for support. "You read the bible to Mason when he requests it, don't you?" 

"When I'm feeling generous," Margot is quick to correct, and Alana knows it is just as much a reminder to the woman herself of her newfound position. It is one of power and unbridled discretion. Alana is briefly refreshed upon the fact that it took Hannibal Lecter to grant them both new legs to walk on.

"And how is Mason today?" Alana asks idly, allowing her eyes to roam the foyer of the Verger manor. The interiors are grandiose in every sense of the word. It has the same atmosphere of pretension that chokes like a pungent perfume- stifling, but undeniably appealing. 

"Sleeping," Margot sighs with a vague note of disinterest. "Thought we'd enjoy a drink before the little angel ascends from his slumber."

"If he's an angel, does that make us archangels, Ms. Verger? The guardians of the lesser?"

"Margot, and no..." Margot opens the door to her room, but doesn't lead Alana through it. She gives Alana the ability to accept or decline the invitation. "Archangels oppose the devil through the army of God. I don't think God was...or is on our side. It's certainly not Him we're fighting for." 

Alana smirks at this, crossing the threshold into Margot's room with only the aid of her cane. From day one, the woman has never failed to engross her, always leaving Alana yearning for further conversation long after she is dismissed by Mason. A kinship exists, as one usually does from the web Hannibal Lecter forges in his wake, but this is not what attracts her to Margot: It's the desire for retribution in her blue eyes that burns in Alana's own. The mutual abnegation to conform to the mentality of victimization.

Margot feels the loss of heat when Alana's fingers leave her, and she shuts the door behind them. If Alana notices, it doesn't seem to bother her.

"Not Angels, not demons...somewhere in between," Alana muses, stopping in the center of the bedroom to observe how it reflects Margot. 

"Are we the same, Doctor Bloom?" Margot asks, pouring two whiskeys from her liquor cart. 

"Alana," The Doctor mimics comfortably, not missing the twitch of a smile on Margot's lips when the correction is made. "And I can't answer that just yet, Margot. We so rarely are afforded the chance to be alone together."

Margot sits on the edge of her mattress and Alana follows, accepting her glass with a nod of thanks. 

"Doesn't get much more private than this, Alana," Margot says, testing the sound of the woman's name on her tongue. Both of them rather like it. "You're in my domain. Are you analyzing me like you do my brother?"

"No more than you're analyzing me," Alana tips her head back to take a drink. "That's what you greet me for, right? A way to discern my motives disguised as friendly conversation."

"Maybe I'm just intrigued," Margot shrugged, taking a drink of her own. "It's not often our farm is graced by visitors- and they're rarely as alluring."

"You're deflecting."

"It's apparent to me that our situations are not dissimilar. We both want vindication...and we're both using my brother's position to achieve that."

"You hired me as his doctor. Are you not concerned that I'll simply relay this information back to him?"

"I'm not concerned," Margot says, meeting Alana's eyes. "I'm confident that you and I will use Mason to our mutual benefit...and neither of us will be a hinderance to each other's endeavors."

Alana looks between her eyes. There isn't any doubt housed behind them, but there is something there that pierces through Alana's hardened exterior. It’s the softness of a veritable connection that pulls her in. "You're good friends with confidence, aren't you?" She retorts, glancing away to take another drink.

"Now you're deflecting. Trust is a much better compliment than confidence, Alana. We've no reason to lie to each other." 

"Reason doesn't always play a role in deceit. You and I should know that better than anyone." The words leave her mouth before she has time to process them. She looks back at Margot, eyes that are just as scarred as she imagines the rest of her body to be. Both of them shattered, picking up their pieces the way they _want_ \- not how they are expected to. 

The concept of trust is foreign, not just for Margot, but for Alana now, too. She feels the urge to touch Margot's face, so she does, congealing their bond with a physical connection. She is careful, uncertain as she studies Margot's delicate features. She imagines she will be this cautious with every person she meets again. Alana sighed slowly, "I'm not sure if..."

"This is your entrance?" Margot smiles softly, running her hand over the one at her cheek. Her fingers interlace with Alana's, keeping her hand there as she puts both their drinks aside. "This can be your entrance."

Months have passed since Alana has been touched, and the sensation is a welcome one. Margot’s hand is as soft as her cheek, fitting comfortably over her own. No hint of a game, no suggestion of ulterior motives. Far from dependency, both here because they want to be. 

_This can be your entrance_.

Warm lips press against Alana's and she decides it can be.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk I just really love this pairing and wanted to explore what a more in depth conversation between them might look like.  
> Lanabloom.tumblr.com


End file.
